Sightless
by Kina-Kinz
Summary: Two sweeps after the end of the game, Vriska is alone. She's alive, but painfully alone. All she wants is one turquoise-blooded girl. T for sexual implications.


A/N- my first time writing fanfiction in a very long time. This is my first Homestuck fanfiction, as well. It's got some sadstuck, but nothing too major. Takes place about two sweeps (four years) after the end of the game with the Beta kids. Follow me on tumblr! .com

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You remember everything.

As you lie alone in your recuperacoon, the memories hit you like a tidal wave. You've been away from her for weeks, and only now do the thoughts crash into your mindset. Her sightless gaze, nimble fingers, jagged teeth. The jut of her hipbone and the ridges of her ribs. The slope of her back and the swell of her breasts. You see it all in your mind's eye.

You were like sisters, but so much more. A relationship that started as black as the hair that falls barely past her shoulders, yet blossomed into something much redder. The black has been gone for only a sweep, but the others still think of it as present. You do remember the searing pain that shot from your shoulder and your eye- or where it used to be. Metal fingers subconsciously reach up and stroke the rippled and scarred flesh of your left socket and cheekbone, as if it could feel the skin there. The hand falls back to your side, and you get up. You take small steps towards your closet, the coldness of the stone floor seeping into your bare feet. Tiny _pats_ emanate when your soles hit the floor with each step. Brushing aside your many black shirts, you come upon one you haven't worn in a very long time.

Taking the garment off the hanger it sits on, you stare at the turquoise symbol imprinted on the fabric. It's not your own. Slowly you bring it to your nose, and inhale. A mix of peppermint and cherry hits your nostrils. _Her and her damn affinity for anything red,_ you think, a small smile gracing your lips. Underneath the scents of fruit and freshness, lies another. A colder, more wintery mint. One that would be light blue, like her blood. Your eye closes and you bring the shirt over your head. The neck catches on your pincer-shaped horn and a small tear is created. You manage to get the thing down all the way without any more rips. You stand there for another moment before walking to the glass door that leads to a balcony.

Thin, grey fingers wrap around the brass handle and twist it. Pulling slightly, the door opens and a small breeze rustles the dark curtains. You gingerly make your way to the edge of the outcropping of finished stone, closing the door behind you. Your rough and calloused elbows lean against the smooth stone railing and you look out over the canyon-like landscape before you. There are newer and more jagged holes in the rockface now, a result of the explosion of the doomsday device that malfunctioned when your lusus died. Equius' hive is abandoned- you don't remember where he's run off to. Somewhere to keep an eye on Nepeta, you assume.

The cold night air makes goosebumps arise on your light charcoal skin and rustles your tangled hair. You let out a sigh and your thoughts drift to her. You miss her, but you also miss having someone to hold. A warm body pressed against you at night. To calm you through the nightmares when you remember the session. You miss the way she'd lick behind your ear because she knew it was sensitive. _Oh, god, her tongue… _Your mind says. She knew every inch of your body because of that tongue. She didn't even need eyes. The way she'd tease you and you'd tangle your fingers in her hair. When she moved it in slow circles down below that made your toes curl in pleasure. Her fingers, ghosting over your smooth skin, feeling every part of you. Her lips mashed against yours, tongues fighting for dominance and power. You'd always let her win. The other trolls always thought of you as aggressive and pushy, but really you were waiting for someone to push back. And that's exactly what she did. She would pin you against the wall and do what she pleased. Fingers wrapped tightly around your wrists and holding you in place. Teeth rasping over flesh that her lips had bruised. Lovebites and hickeys littered your body each morning after you were together.

You remember the way she was so gentle the first time, even though she wanted to be rough. The way her forefinger and thumb worked in harmony and elicited the most pleasure you had ever experienced. When she whispered in your ear, tongue flickering over the cartilage, telling you that you were beautiful. That you were perfect. You bring her so much happiness.

That she loved you.

You find your fingers to be twisting the hem of the shirt, wrinkling it. You let go and bury your face in your hands. You want her back but you have no idea how to get her. Running your artificial hand through your tangled hair, nearly catching on one of your horns, you let out a loud sigh. Tears begin to fall from your remaining eye and you wrench open the door. The sobs became louder and more violent, racking your body and shaking your shoulders. You slam the door and hear the glass rattle. You collapse in a heap on the floor, arms around yourself. The tears are flowing freely and you're wailing. You haven't cried in a long time and you're letting all the pain, frustration, and sadness that's been building up for months, maybe sweeps, out.

You fall asleep crying, still huddled on the floor.

You want her to love you again like you still love her.


End file.
